The Spark
by UtterlyBetwixt
Summary: Before the events that took place on Svartalfheim, Midgard, and Jötunheim, Loki was the God of Mischief and a Prince longing to find a way to cure his eternal boredom in Asgard while his brother prepared to assume the throne. He gets a lot more than he bargained for in the form of Midgardian woman Julia, who ignites within him a spark that will change him forever. Loki/OC
1. Chapter 1

**The Spark**

**Chapter One**

The shining gold of Asgard was almost blinding. The light of the realm eternal seemed to shine out across the universe, as bright as a star, once a beacon to those who had worshipped its people. As a child, the young prince had awoken every morning, his breath taken by his home's extraordinary beauty. He had rushed from his bed to the window that overlooked everything from the palace garden to the Bifröst at the far edge of the realm. When he wasn't studying magic with his mother, sparring with his elder brother, or learning the history of the Nine Realms from his father, Loki was wandering every inch of Asgard he could find, desperate to learn all of its secrets, to know it like no one else would. It enraptured him and enthralled him, this place of dazzling enchantment. But now, years later, after Loki Odinson had learnt its secrets and wandered its streets, he found it frightfully dull.

He wandered around the palace, flicking his wrist to topple goblets off of tables and trays, to trip up guards as they passed, to make a lady's skirt fly up as she passed, but all of this was momentary entertainment. Most of the subtle tricks—falling glasses or tipped plates—were never blamed on Loki; they seemed to be too accidental and natural. However, there were only so many times a guard could pass the prince and trip on air without becoming suspicious. If they saw him wandering around with a smirk on his face, his hands clasped behind his back, they knew to skirt subtly away. This day was no different.

As if the loud clattering of a platter of food crashing to the floor had alerted her, Loki's mother appeared with a look of disapproval on her fair face. Frigga, the Queen of Asgard, approached and quickly righted the fallen platter.

"Your father did not appreciate your little trick," she said, staring at him with an arched eyebrow and a look that her son had come to fear throughout their lives.

"What, that?" Loki said incredulously, nodding at the food. "That was nothing."

"Not that," said Frigga with an impatient shake of her head. "I'm speaking of earlier, Loki, when you saw fit to send a Glimmer to your history lesson instead of going there yourself."

Loki couldn't help but grin sheepishly. "You would have done the same if you were being forced to study the dullest creatures in all of the Nine Realms, Mother," he said. "Besides, I was just . . . practicing what you taught me."

Frigga sighed, shaking her head once more. "I did not teach you how to project an image of yourself so you could shirk your responsibilities, Loki."

But Loki continued to smile innocently at her, rocking on the balls of his feet, a mischievous look on his face that never failed to make her laugh. Sighing with a chuckle, she gave in and reached over to pinch his cheek as she had done all his life.

"Your form was off, anyway," she scolded lightly. "Odin knew it was a Glimmer the moment he saw it."

Loki ducked away from her and quickly spun around so that he stood on the other side of her, not wishing his cheeks to be pinched a second time. "How?" he said, affronted. "I thought I'd done a good job since I hadn't heard his enraged voice echoing across the palace."

"You were flickering," said Frigga. "He had only to touch you and you disappeared. If you had focused more, you would have at least kept your form. As for his enraged voice, I do believe he gave up for the day. Although, I would not think it wise to seek him out just now unless you want a lecture."

"One a day is enough, Mother, thank you," said Loki with a seemingly benevolent smile.

With his adolescence behind him, and with it his lessons of magic with his mother and his sparring and training and schooling with his brother (although his history lessons with Odin were, unfortunately, still going on), Loki found himself increasingly bored and shunted off to the side. Though a date had not yet been set, the time for Thor's coronation was approaching. It could be in a few days, a few months, or a year, but it was coming closer and closer, and it would change everything. Loki would forever remain "the young prince" while his slightly idiotic bear of a brother became king of all Nine Realms. Surely both Odin and Frigga would reap the rewards of training their future-king in battle and strength more than wisdom and knowledge. It would only be a matter of time before the new All-Father came begging his little brother for his advice on how not to destroy a world.

After leaving his mother, Loki found himself wandering towards the area were all of the dual ships were housed. The small ships were large enough to hold only a small number of people and were good for nothing more than cruising the waters and skies of Asgard, but at least it offered a small amount of entertainment. Because the ships were off-limits to any civilians, Thor often seduced and enticed women with a ride. In all of the combat training they had done, Loki remembered vividly the day they had finally been able to learn to drive the ships. Though primarily used for battle, no one saw any harm in allowing the two princes to gallivant around in them if they so desired, as long as no one was in need of them. That first day, Loki had glided around Asgard like he had driven the ships all his life. Thor had destroyed his by crashing into the side of a cliff.

When he approached, the guard standing by the docks stepped aside immediately to allow him to board the closest ship. He stood at the helm, easing out of the loading area carefully and not careening around like Thor would have done. The moment he was free of all obstacles, he took off away from the palace and the buildings, heading towards open water.

Standing at the helm, feeling the wind caress his face, the sense of freedom was amazing. He had left Asgard only a handful of times, all of which were accompanied by Odin or Thor. Because Thor often led the armies in battle, it was he had his four "warriors" who traveled the universe looking for things to punch and hack. Sometimes he invited his younger brother along if they needed some sort of concealment or another defensive magic or if Thor was feeling particularly generous, but usually Loki was left home.

Though Loki had felt terribly put-out when he was younger about being left behind all the time, now he was over it. He didn't crave battle and the crashing of swords—or hammers—like his brother did. Loki was perfectly content to stay home and wreak havoc by tricking and fooling people, sneaking off to secret crevices, and stealing books from the vast libraries. He couldn't deny that he enjoyed having fewer responsibilities than his brother.

Loki approached the cliffs at breakneck speed. Though he'd done this countless times, it never ceased to be thrilling as he sped toward the wall of rock as swiftly as if he meant to intentionally crash. He turned at the very last possible second and began flying alongside the cliffs, growing closer and closer to the edge of Asgard, to the waterfall that flowed into a starry abyss. He and Thor had always been warned not to get too close, lest they should be sucked down, but when did they listen? Besides, Loki knew he was in no danger; he knew how close he could get before he started to feel the painful pull of the universe outside of Asgard.

It was only when he saw a flash, a glistening out of the corner of his eye that he slowed the ship, gazing intently at the cliff to his right. The solid rock loomed above him, the top of which he could not even see from where he hovered. Then, suddenly, he saw it: a hole in the cliff. It seemed small from where he was, but as he grew closer, he saw that it was just about the same size of the ship. Not even bothering to consider the consequences or what might actually be in the depths of the cliff, Loki eased the ship into the hole.

Immediately, he was pulled forward. Pulling back on the brake did nothing; he and the ship were careening into the bowels of the rock, the wings smashing onto the sides and sending sparks and debris flying. He could neither steer nor stop, only hope that he wasn't about to be ejected into space itself and sucked down a wormhole. Loki could not suppress the shout of fear and alarm that escaped his lips with the nose of the ship caught on the rocky floor of the narrow passageway. His heart leapt into his throat and all of his muscles clenched as he was thrown from the ship and through the air, flying straight for a bright light at the end of the tunnel, leaving the burning wreck of his ship behind him.

* * *

"These will be due on Friday, November 8th. Have a great day, sir!"

The man mumbled an indiscernible response, took his books, and walked away. The young woman continued smiling until he was out of sight before letting her face drop and turning away. She brushed a strand of blond hair from her face and went back to her book, reading the poems for what felt like the thousandth time, leaning on the front desk with her elbows resting on the wooden surface, her brown eyes devouring the page before her.

"Julia," came a familiar voice, once more jolting her from her reading, "do you _ever _stop reading over that boring little book?"

Julia knew that her best friend was joking, but it did sting a little. No one really supported her love of the book ever since she had first gotten it as a young girl. Now that she was old enough to actually understand the poems within, she could rarely keep her nose out of it. Of course, this led to endless teasing from her friends and family.

Her friend, Victoria, plucked a free bookmark from a basket and waved it around, clearly bored with being forced to be within the walls of a library, a place she couldn't stand. She surveyed the small number of patrons still wandering the shelves just minutes before Julia and her coworkers would be forced to kick them all out and lock up for the evening. Most of people were college students looking for books that their university library didn't have, something that was possible albeit unlikely. Every once and a while the two friends saw a child flitting through the shelves.

"How much longer?" Victoria asked in a dramatic, groaning voice. "Jules, we have to go home and get ready to go out."

Julia rolled her eyes, wishing she could go back to her book for these last few minutes. She adored Victoria, but she wasn't much of a reader and therefore didn't understand why her friend might prefer to stay home with a mug of hot chocolate and a book rather than go out to the bars in hopes of picking up guys. When it finally came time to close up, Julia deposited her book into her backpack and started the arduous task of shooing library patrons either to the check out desk or out the doors. By the time they finished and everything was locked up, Victoria was practically jumping up and down with impatience.

Luckily for her, the apartment the two friends shared wasn't too far from the public library where Julia worked. It was nestled above a small, hole-in-the-wall café/bookstore on the corner of the street, frequented by the quieter kind of college students, the ones who preferred to come to sip their coffee or tea alone with no company other than a tattered paperback or a newspaper. Julia loved it there, but Victoria insisted that it was dull and smelled weird.

Both young women were students at the local university, halfway through the first semester of their final year. While Victoria was aiming for a degree in Communications, hoping to jet set off to Los Angeles to be Tom Cruise's next publicist or manager, Julia was content with her majors in English and History, as well as her minor in Computer Science. The moment she graduated, she intended to fly to the University of Iceland for her Master's degree and perhaps never return. Victoria thought she was nuts.

"Hey, Vic," Julia called as she headed into her bedroom and deposited her backpack onto the bed, "how much would you hate me if I brought up the possibility of me not going tonight?"

Immediately, Victoria poked her head in through the doorway as she attempted to zip up the back of her dress. "You're going," she declared fiercely. "Juliana Nicole, you are going to the bar with me tonight. You _promised_. I have been looking forward to going all damn week, and _I'll_ be damned if I let you sit out!"

Julia suppressed a retort and quickly shut the door. She knew Victoria meant business if she used both her first and middle name, which she knew perfectly well that Julia hated. Grumbling curses and complaints to herself, Julia shed her clothing from the day and quickly put on a simple, all black ensemble that revealed nothing but her arms and shoulders and left her unlikely to get hit on and therefore increased the likelihood of being able to return home alone (and hopefully early if Victoria found a guy quickly enough). After running a brush through her hair, applying the least dramatic mascara and lipstick she could find, and trading her dark-rimmed glass with contact lenses, she walked out to the living room to wait.

Victoria emerged looking drop-dead gorgeous, of course, in a brand new dress she had just bought after saving up for it for months. After receiving the required, expected, and deserved compliments from her best friend, Victoria turned her attention to Julia.

"You look nice, too," she tried weakly.

Julia shrugged. "I look presentable, which is fine with me. Ready to go?"

"Yes!" Victoria squealed excitedly. "Let's go!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

With a loud crash and a grunt, Loki flew from the hole in the side of the cliff and onto the cold, hard ground. For a moment, he could only lay there, feeling the sudden difference in temperature and the difference of the air in general. Clearly he was no longer in Asgard; he could feel it without even opening his eyes. But where was he? It didn't seem that he had been sucked into a wormhole and had died, because surely death would not be this uncomfortable, cold, and . . . smelly? His silvery eyes flew open, and the first thing he saw was a wall built tall with innumerable red stones, all of the same size and rectangular shape. The ground upon which he lay was hard, rough, and uncomfortable, and in the air was an overwhelming odor he did not recognize. He followed his natural instinct of moving away from such a smell and rose unsteadily to his feet with a slight groan, backing away from a large, metal, green box that seemed to be the thing emitting the smell.

Where was he? Clearly the cave in the cliff and had led to some sort of portal out of Asgard. If so, that opened up a whole new weakness for the Realm Eternal if anyone in this realm had the ability to enter it. But then a frightening thought entered his mind: did the portal work both ways? What if he was trapped here? What if he couldn't get back to Asgard? Although, he reasoned with himself, surely he wasn't so far away that all-seeing Heimdall couldn't see him and respond to his call if needed.

Suppressing his rising panic, Loki forced himself to calm, to empty his mind of all scared thoughts. If he wanted to find his way back, he could do so; he just needed to apply all of the lessons of magic that he had learned from his mother, and to do that, he needed to be calm. His breaths slowed and he felt himself entering a hazy, dreamlike state that came with meditation. When he had first begun studying magic, this state had taken ages upon ages to attain, but it was the best way to gain new skills and knowledge. Now he could do it at will with almost no provocation other than a simple thought.

As he stood there, eyes closed, his breathing slow, his senses were heightened. What he couldn't feel during his panic was now clearly apparent: a slight humming, the soft buzzing of magical energy gathering somewhere to his left, towards the depths of the narrow passageway in which he currently found himself. When he opened his eyes, still keeping his meditative state—something even Frigga had never mastered—he could see a rippling toward the big, metal box, as if there was a sheer fabric in front of it rustling in a light breeze. This, he was certain, was the portal. But it wasn't sucking him in like the other one was. This one had only a slight pull, as if he was merely intrigued by it and found himself growing closer to it—this, he knew, was involuntary; it was not his desire making him walk towards the portal, but the portal itself. When he reached out the very tips of his fingers to touch it, he found that it was cold. Though he half-expected it to lurch him forward, nothing happened. He merely stood there, his body in one world and his fingers in another. Surely this meant he had the ability to return home—he had only to step forward and submerge his whole body in the portal.

But was that what he wanted? With a single breath, Loki dismissed his meditative state, losing the sound of the buzzing and cool breeze of the portal. Yet he knew subconsciously that it was still there. Why not stay in this world, explore it a little? It was different from any of the other few realms to which he had traveled with his father and brother, except for one. Though it was dark, he could hear voices in the distance, the sound of laughter and carefree companionship. Clearly this world was crawling with different beings, all of whom knew the same language in order to communicate. It had been almost a millennia since he had visited such a place, a place that even then had been filled to the brim with humans, those weak mortals who walked around their lives, bumping into things and each other like their eyes were closed. Loki was certain that he had arrived in Midgard.

Midgard were seen to those on Asgard as a realm full of lesser beings, of creatures who looked much like them, but were about as similar to them as donkeys to horses. They were stupid, their minds focusing only on two things: bedding one another and destroying each other and their planet. Jokes in Asgard were often told using an idiot Midgardian as a punchline. There had been a time, recent to Asgardians yet mythical to the humans, that Thor had appeared on earth and had been worshipped and adored, seen as a god, awing people as he summoned lightning with his beloved hammer, Mjölnir. Once the humans had, apparently, evolved and stopped believing in the Asgardians, Thor had stopped coming, yet had watched over them from afar. Loki saw his brother's task like a man who watched over idiot sheep: dull and pointless.

Sure enough, as two young women passed the entry of the narrow alleyway into which he had been thrown, he saw that they looked no different from any Asgardian woman. Their clothing was different—less elegant and less beautiful, plus the fact that one of the women actually wore trousers—and one of the women's hair was shorter than was the norm in Asgard. Yet there was something about them that screamed the fact that they were humans and mortals, not the Aesir of Asgard. Because they were, however, so similar to the Aesir, Loki found himself intrigued by them and wanting to discover more about them. From what he had been taught from his father, the humans had evolved tremendously since the time they had worshipped the Asgardians and knew of their existence. (Although, Loki had to wonder just how much they had evolved if they had eventually forsaken the knowledge of Asgard and its people, claiming the stories of their ancestors to be merely legends and myths when there he stood, clearly as real as any of them.)

Loki inched toward the mouth of the alleyway, peering after the women as they continued down the street. They were young, hundreds of years younger than Loki himself, yet appearance-wise, they looked to be near his own age. Glancing around at the numerous other humans wandering about on the streets, all of them young, he began to grow self-conscious about his attire. It didn't seem that his typical apparel of black leather, green, and gold would help him to blend in with those in this world.

He looked at the different men to try and get an idea of what kind of clothing he should copy, but they were all wearing different things, none of them familiar to him or resembling Asgardian garb in any way. Sighing, frustrated, Loki picked a man at random and waved his hand in a silent spell to copy the clothing onto his own body. Immediately his own outfit melded into this new one—black trousers, odd, black shoes, a black jacket, and a white shirt with buttons all down the front. He felt extremely strange in this getup, but if it helped him blend in, then he supposed his discomfort was worth it.

No one paid Loki any attention as he emerged from the alley and started down to the right, following in the same direction as the two women he'd seen earlier. Several women cast him a second glance, which he returned with a slight smirk. Well, this was already proving to be fun. With his quick pace, he caught up with the women after a few moments. The taller one, her dark hair cut short to her shoulders, was laughing, evidently excited about something. The shorter, blonde one wearing the trousers didn't seem to be as enthusiastic.

When they stopped and entered a building, Loki's interest piqued. Peering inside, he saw that it was some sort of public gathering, very similar to the taverns on Asgard, although much darker and with the most obnoxious form of a music he had ever heard. Wishing to see more of these mortals, he followed them into the building. Though he had lost sight of the two, there was no shortage of other people to observe. Men and women, all seeming to be around the same age, laughed and drank bright-colored liquids in small, flimsy glasses. A good-sized crowd of people were moving in the center of the room, pressing their bodies against one another in a manner that was almost obscene.

No wonder they were seen as such lowly creatures.

As he approached the bar, he spotted the two friends once more. The dark-haired women had her head thrown back, downing some sort of liquid in a small glass. Her friend sat beside her, watching but drinking nothing.

"Hel_lo_," said the first woman, turning toward Loki the moment she saw him. "What's your name?"

Loki stared at her for a moment, startled at being addressed so suddenly and informally. If they knew he was a prince, one who was immortal by their standards, practically a god, would she speak to him in such ways? Probably not. Nevertheless, how was she to know, especially when he was actually attempting to blend in?

"I am Loki," he replied, keeping his voice just low enough so that she had to scoot closer to him.

The woman's friend looked up the moment his name had been spoken, her brown eyes appearing startled. But Loki paid her no attention, focusing instead on the woman closest to him.

"Interesting name," the woman commented, sliding ever closer. "I'm Victoria."

"Yeah, it _is _an interesting name," the other woman said, standing up moving beside her friend. "Where'd you get it?"

Loki raised an eyebrow and stared coolly at her. "My parents," he replied shortly. "Should I have gotten it somewhere else?"

"Your parents were fond of Norse mythology, then?" the woman fired back.

It was all Loki could do not to burst into laughter. So _that _was it! She thought he was using a fake name, perhaps in order to bed her friend, and that he had chosen the name Loki from _Norse mythology_. Oh, if only the little sunflower knew the truth, knew to whom she was truly speaking. She would fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness, of that he was certain. He was no imposter, he _was _the legends.

"Julia," said Victoria, suddenly sounding annoyed. "I know you're passionate about the mythical legends and whatever, but just because a guy's name—"

"Vic, do you _really _think that's his real name?" the woman, Julia, demanded to her friend. "The name 'Loki' is based on legends, on Norse mythology; it's not exactly the 'Ashley' of our generation. If he's lying to you about his name, then what else might he lie to you about?"

Loki had no idea what 'the Ashley of their generation' was and he didn't care to ask. He had grown weary of their bickering, of this Julia's interference and hot-headedness. While they were still arguing, paying him no mind, he turned on his heel and walked away, thoroughly fed-up with Midgardians and their pettiness. His desire to leave the hot, crowded building was strong. No wonder these stupid people were seen as asses or sheep; that was exactly what they were! They were disgusting, pressing themselves up against one another with no thought of decency or class.

He started off back down the sidewalk in the direction from which he had originally come. Though he saw women continue to give him sidelong glances, he ignored them, keeping his head held haughtily high, the way he did when he was feeling particularly princely and did not want to deal with certain people. It was only when he heard the familiar voice of that Julia women calling out at him to wait did he finally slow, turning to face her curiously.

"Look," she said, trying to catch her breath from running after him, "I just wanted to apologize. I've . . . I've had a really bad day, and I really didn't want to be there at that bar, and I took it out on you, and I'm sorry."

"Do you make a habit out of it?" Loki drawled, suddenly amused by the turn of events. "Do you normally have 'a bad day' and then proceed to take it out on people you don't know?"

Julia shrugged. "Sometimes. Sometimes it's on people I _do_ know, like Victoria, who's a really sweet girl you should get to know."

Loki arched an eyebrow. "Ah, but mightn't I lie to her?"

Julia sighed. "Is Loki your _real _name, or were you just faking it?"

"I am truly Loki," he replied. He looked at her, almost waiting for her to make to the connection, to realize that he was _the _Loki and not some sort of imposter. "Loki of Asgard."

A small, rueful smile forced its way onto Julia's face. Loki noted that she was much prettier when she smiled than when she was sullen and angry.

"At least you know your mythology," she said grudgingly. "Are you parents into Norse mythology and that's why they named you Loki?"

She still had no idea. It was almost frustrating. Although Loki had to admit that it was probably best that she didn't know whom he was. Odin would not be pleased to learn that his youngest son had whispered secrets of the Aesir to a mere mortal because he found her pleasant to look at. Come to think of it, Odin wouldn't be pleased, period, when he found out where his son had been all day. Though it was night here, it was likely still day in Asgard. Loki had no way of knowing how much time had passed at home.

"I must take my leave," Loki said, sidestepping her question and backing away a few paces. "Asgard calls to me."

Julia smiled, clearly believing that he was joking. Loki flashed a quick, not-quite-genuine smile at her and turned, heading off down the sidewalk towards the alleyway. He was surprised, actually, that Heimdall had not yet sent him barreling through space via the Bifröst. Surely the guardian of Asgard could see him and was watching him closely, and had likely informed Frigga if not both her and Odin. Loki shuddered to think of the words his father would have for him when he returned.

Loki found the alley easily and, as soon as he was sure no one was around to see him, he magicked his own clothing back onto his body, sending his Midgardian ensemble into nothingness. The pull of the portal was even strong now, its low hum of energy able to be heard even without his heightened senses of meditation. He had not been jesting earlier; Asgard was calling to him, likely in the form of his worried mother. Loki ended his brief, uneventful adventure upon Midgard and stepped forward through the portal, his body immediately wrenched inside it and hurtled through space. When he reappeared in the familiar realm of Asgard, he found himself in his own chambers.

The golden sunlight streamed through the large window, dust mites swirling in the beams as they cascaded to the stone floor. For a moment, he thought he was alone and had escaped from any sort of lecture or punishment. Perhaps he had imagined the pull of the portal. It was only after a few moments of reveling in his good fortune that Loki turned to see his mother standing in the doorway, clearly unimpressed and worried. He had been caught.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who's read! It means a lot! I would definitely appreciate some feedback, so let me know if I'm doing something you think is totally awful! ;)**

Chapter Three

Immediately, Loki turned on his charm. He smiled, walking towards the door with his hands open as if he had been here the whole time and was welcoming his mother inside. But Frigga stared at him, her light eyes knowing and unforgiving. Far too often had Loki seen his mother look upon him in such a manner, whether he had knocked over one too many soldiers or he and Thor had gone on a secret joyride on one of the Cielémer, the dual water and air ships.

"Hello, Mother," he said, ignoring her look and continuing toward her. "What, may I ask, is the occasion of your kindly visit?"

"My son, I suggest you hold your tongue," said Frigga, her voice icy cold. "My visit is growing less and less kind with each passing moment, and it would not do you well to try to slither your way out of it."

"_Slither_," Loki repeated, going to sit on the edge of his bed, finally accepting the inevitability of a lecture. "Not the friendliest word you could have used."

Normally, Loki probably would have seen a crack in his mother's hardened façade, the twitching of the corner of mouth that showed she was trying not to smile. But this time there was none, no indication that she was actually amused by what he had done and was trying to hide it with her duty to tell him off. So he waited.

"Loki, you are no longer a child," Frigga said after a moment. "Far from it, actually. I no longer have the right to tell you what to do and how to do it, though your father would like to believe otherwise. Scolding you for tormenting the Aesir is one thing, but to _leave _Asgard. My son, this is forbidden to _everyone _without the express permission of the All-Father, _including _you and your brother."

"Mother, what is the likelihood of you believing me when I say that it was an accident?" Loki asked, looking up at her and giving her a rather pleading expression.

But Frigga stared at him, studying him, trying to make up her mind about whether she believed him. As much as he had spent his life tricking and lying to Thor and lying to and trying to trick Odin, he had never done so to her. Frigga could not recall an instance when Loki had blatantly, maliciously lied to her, unless he was doing so to hide his own feelings that he found somehow shameful.

"I believe you," she said at last, shocking her son to the core. "But we must know how this happened; if there is another way in and out of Asgard other than the Bifröst, then it must be sealed."

"I do not know." Loki did not like to lie to her. In fact, he hated it. He'd never had any problems lying to Thor or Odin or to anyone else, but Frigga had always been the exception. But he knew he couldn't tell her where he had found the portal, where the crashed Cielémer lay in a narrow cave. Loki knew he wanted to return to Midgard eventually, perhaps to seek out that human, Julia. She intrigued him in ways he did not understand, possibly because of her knowledge of his world when everyone else seemed to have forgotten it. But Loki also knew that if he told Frigga about where the portal was, he would never again be able to return to Midgard.

* * *

Julia was quick to forget the strange man she and Victoria had met at the bar. There were much more important things on her mind, like the endless piles of homework she had to do, her job at the public library, or the planning of her next road trip. His name, whether it was fake or not, faded from her mind, as did his pale, pointed face, his impeccable suit, and his raven hair. The only thing she found herself randomly thinking of were his silvery blue eyes.

Honestly, she found it rather surprising that they hadn't known the guy. The town in which they lived and the college they attended was immensely small. If this "Loki" didn't go to school them, then he was at least probably what was called a townie. Or, of course, there was always the possibility that he was visiting family or friends. But why would anyone willingly visit that tiny place that was too big to be a town but too small to be a city? In truth, it and their university were rather quaint. The buildings were brick with ivy growing along their crevices, many of the roads still contained their original red brick surface, the houses were large and old with an air of mystery about them. But it certainly wasn't a tourist town, and if you weren't interested in the few subjects that the university offered, then there really was no point in coming. Yet in the week since that night at the bar, neither Julia nor Victoria had seen any trace of the man who called himself Loki.

So Julia turned her focus to other things. After Victoria had returned home the next morning hung-over but perfectly satisfied after spending the night with a guy, she had finally agreed not to force her friend to go with her to the bar anymore if she really didn't want to. She had arrived to find Julia awake at seven-thirty in the morning that Saturday, already working on her latest paper while "jamming" to her favorite pianist's latest CD. Julia had greeted her cheerfully and then suddenly gotten the "random" urge to start her playlist of her extensive heavy metal tracks, which included loud, fast guitar solos, rough vocals, and pounding drums. Victoria had not appreciated this in the slightest.

"Fine!" she had shouted, stomping to her bedroom. "You don't have to go with me anymore if you _turn that shit off_!"

Now, a week later, Victoria was at work, leaving Julia to hang out at home. She turned her attention from her long research paper to the road trip she was intending to take over Spring break. Julia had loved driving from the very first moment she had sat behind the wheel of her father's sedan and turned the key in the ignition. It wasn't so much a need for speed as it was the sense of freedom she felt when she was behind the wheel. While her father had insisted that she was a natural, he had nearly had a heart attack when attempting to teach Julia's sister, Erin, three years later. The first road trip Julia had taken had been the day after she had graduated high school at eighteen with her then-boyfriend. The freedom had been great, the arguing . . . not so much. Since a disastrous attempt at a road trip with Victoria, Julia tended to go on them alone.

However, just as Julia began putting the finishing touches on her plan, she stopped. Digging through her pile of roadmaps, all of them covering most of North America, she found that there was a monumental one missing, one that she would need once she hit the northern border and continued into Québec. While everyone around her—her parents, her sisters, Victoria—kept saying that she should invest in a G.P.S., Julia ignored them. What was the fun in following a robotic voice where no adventure or improvisation was allowed? Her insistence of using maps and not her boyfriend's high-tech G.P.S. was what had ignited their arguments that time they had made the stupid decision to travel together. But Julia had never truly been lost. If she took a wrong turn, she preferred to say that she was "misplaced."

(As a child, Julia's father often described her as "pertinacious," as in, "There's my little Jewel, always so pertinacious." When she asked what that meant, certain that it was a synonym for something like beautiful, intelligent, or graceful, Mr. Reisman had told her to look it up in a dictionary. Upon learning that it was a synonym for "stubborn," Julia had been immensely offended.)

Resigned to the necessity of driving to the local Barnes & Noble to pick up a new map, Julia gathered her wallet and car keys before trudging out of the apartment and into the chilly air. The only thing that could even slightly make up for her day that was supposed to be spent indoors being ruined was the fact that this particular Barnes & Noble contained a small Starbucks inside, which meant Julia got to go broke delving into books and lattes. Nothing new there.

The map of eastern Canada wasn't too difficult to find. What was more challenging for Julia was pulling herself away from the stacks. Whether or not she could afford a new book at the moment, she couldn't resist the allure of hard- and paperbacks alike whispering her name from amongst their pages. It didn't take her too long to find herself in the mythology section, most of the books covering Roman and Greek mythology, a small handful even mentioning that of the Norse. But ever since her mother had read her stories about the Norse gods, about Odin and the mighty Thor, as bedtime stories, Julia had been entranced. Only a select few knew she carried _The Prose Edda _with her almost everywhere she went.

Julia pulled out a generic book about Norse mythology which sections about each god, the different legends, and even descriptions about what was written in _The Prose Edda_. As she flipped to the section about Loki, the God of Mischief and Lies, a voice startled her and nearly caused her to drop the book.

"Well, that certainly looks fascinating."

It was the smooth, velvety voice that Julia had forgotten the morning after she'd heard it. She knew as she turned around what she would see, the man standing before her. Now that she heard the voice again, she found it amazing that she had forgotten it in the first place. Of course it was the man from the bar, looking as handsome as ever, once again wearing a suit that was far too formal for a Saturday afternoon at Barnes & Noble.

"What are you doing here?" Julia blurted, her tone much more snappish and impolite than she had intended.

The man raised his eyebrows, yet was apparently amused at her attitude.

"I was under the impression that this is a public establishment," he said, looking around. "Pardon me if I was mistaken."

Julia sighed, running a hand through her honey blond hair. "I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I'm just . . . jumpy today, I guess. I wasn't expecting to see you. I guess I thought you'd skipped town or something."

"Maybe for a bit," the man said with a slight shrug. "But now I've returned, surely to your delight. Where has your charming friend got to?" he asked, looking around.

"Victoria?" Julia suppressed the slight twinge of jealously she felt flicker within her, forcing herself not to care why he was asking about her. "She's working."

"What did you say your name was?" The man looking politely curious, and Julia took this as an opening.

"Julia Reisman," she said shortly. "What about you?"

The man grinned a grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat. "I am utterly shocked you've forgotten," he said with mock surprise. "I am Loki."

Julia was disappointed. She had been hoping that this guy would have forgotten the alias he had used at the bar and slipped up, but that didn't seem to be the case. Was it really his name, then, or did he just have a good memory? There was something about him, this Loki, that made her uneasy and something she found attractive at the same time. Though she kept her guard up, Julia couldn't stop herself from taking a step closer.

* * *

Loki watched Julia Reisman, completely fascinated by every move she made. The way she tucked a stray clump of hair behind her ear, how she pushed up the black-rimmed glasses up her noses, the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as they spoke. She was so utterly _human_ that it was captivating to watch. It appeared that Julia was impatient with him, demanding to know his true identity, not believing him when he told her that his name was, in fact, Loki. The mere fact that she even bothered with him was amusing enough. Loki had the feeling that if Julia knew just how much she was amusing him, she would be furious.

It had not been easy sneaking away from Asgard this time around. His father demanded his presence at what seemed like all hours, Thor was galumphing around like an oaf when he finished battling for pure sport, and Frigga watched her younger son like a hawk. Loki knew she had told Heimdall to keep an eye on him when he was on his own around Asgard, but little did either of them know that he had long since learned how to shroud himself, to hide from the watchful eyes of both the Gate Keeper and his mother.

Why he had so desired to return to Midgard, why he had looked all over this pathetic town before finally, by chance, catching sight of this young woman and following her inconspicuously into the store, Loki could not say. There was something, whether it was Julia or Midgard, that captivated him and piqued his interest.

Perhaps it was because the Aesir did not see Midgardians as barbarians like the saw the Frost Giants of Jötunheim, the Fire Giants of Muspelheim, or even the Dark Elves of Svartalfeim. They were simply inferior, nearly identical on the outside yet lacking the intelligence and grace of the Asgardians. They were not monsters, but lesser beings. If anyone, it was the Midgardians alongside whom the Asgardians were most capable of existing. Yet though he was amused by her, Loki was starting less and less to see Julia as inferior or as a sort of pet like another Asgardian might view her.

Julia didn't remain in the mythology section for long. She migrated over to the coffee shop, whose powerful scent nearly made Loki gag, and he followed. They continued a light, harmless conversation about why Julia was purchasing a map and where she was going this Spring when her classes were finished for a while. Loki listened, fascinated. Her life was so different from anything Asgardians ever knew of. When she sat down at a small table with a tall, warm drink, he joined her. To anyone else watching, they appeared to be perfectly normal.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: WOO. Okay. I am sooo sorry it took me about a month to update - finals this time around were pretty crazy and now I've been distracted by, y'know, Christmas. But thanks so much to all those who have taken time to read, favorite, follow, and especially, review! It means everything to me and keeps me going! :) This next chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I was pretty desperate to get it out! Hopefully you can forgive me. :)**

Chapter Four

Loki had always been extremely perceptive. He could tell a person's nature easily, perhaps not just by looking at them, but by spending time with them and getting to know them. Long ago had he figured out the "essence" of his family members. Thor was the easiest—he was a warrior who acted as if he was bloodthirsty, but he was the type who cried a small creature's death when he was a child and who still retained that sort of naïveté and hidden innocence, no matter how he tried to hide it. Frigga was the regal queen, respected and adored by all who knew her, and this was not a façade. What people saw in her was, for the most part, whom she was. They did not, however, necessarily know of her "magic tricks," as Thor called them, or her ability to defend herself against any assailant. Odin was the strong, intolerant ruler of the universe, the All-Father, who stood for nothing but protecting the peace of the Nine Realms.

And then there was Julia. She didn't appear to be any different from the other Midgardians milling around them, leisurely sipping their drinks while wandering the many shelves. There was no striking touch of destiny about her, nothing that suggested she was special, that she was to play an important role in an upcoming apocalypse. Yet Loki was drawn to her, feeling somewhat like a moth drawn to a flame. There was this brightness about her, this enticing glow that drew him closer. She was attractive, to be sure, but no more attractive than the Aesir of Asgard or the other Midgardians whom Loki had seen. If there was something special about her, it was the way a smile lit up her whole face, how she played with her hair when she couldn't find something to do with her hands, or how endless her dark brown eyes seemed to be. He was amused by her fascination with what she called Norse mythology, acting as if she was an expert on Loki's own life without realizing to whom she was really speaking. She did not believe him when he told her whom he was, and Loki knew she would not believe he was a god unless he performed some sort of magic before her eyes. He had yet to decide, however, if he intended to take this particular course of action, if he intended to reveal his true identity, or if he would continue his game of speaking to her as if from underneath a veil.

When a lull fell over their conversation, Loki suddenly realized how he must look, completely unfocused on what she was saying and staring blankly at her cup.

"You're not gonna get anything?" Julia asked, following his gaze.

"Erm, no," Loki said quickly, shaking himself from his thoughts. "I, erm . . . don't drink . . ." He trailed off. What on earth was that foul, strong-smelling drink called?

"Coffee?" Julia prompted.

"Yes, that," said Loki, relieved. "I don't drink coffee." _Plus, _he thought, _I am not quite sure this establishment would accept Asgard's coins as currency._

"Hm." Julia took another sip. "You're missing out," she said. "This is the only stuff that keeps me from turning into a zombie every day. Just don't like the taste, or . . .?"

"No, I cannot stand it." Loki figured this was pretty legitimate; the smell of it was absolutely revolting, and thus did not even want to imagine what it tasted like.

Another thing Loki noticed about Julia was that she enjoyed talking if given the chance. When asked if she had lived in this town all her life, Julia launched into a description of where she was from—some place called Vermont—and what she was studying, and how many siblings she had—four sisters.

"What sparked your interested in . . ." Loki struggled to remember her phrase, "Norse mythology?" He vaguely remembered a time, in the very early years of his life, when some Midgardians had actually believed in the Aesir and had worshipped them as gods. It was how Thor had gained his title of the God of Thunder and how Loki had garnered his respective title of the God of Mischief and Lies. This had been in the brothers' adolescence, within the first century of their lives. Even then, somehow the Norse had gained such truth about their deities, sensing their essences and their true nature. Now they were gone and the stories of the gods had fallen into legend and myth.

"My father," Julia replied, a smile lighting her pretty face. "He studied different sorts of mythology in college and started telling my sisters and me about them as bedtime stories when we were little. None of my sisters ever retained any interest, but I loved it. One year, for my birthday, he gave me _The Prose Edda_, and I practically devoured it that night. I find Norse myths so much more fascinating than those of Roman or Greek."

"Naturally," said Loki before he could stop himself. But Julia just smiled; she had no idea that he was actually being egotistical.

"What about you?" she asked. "Are you interested in it at all, or do you prefer not to live up to the name?"

Loki smirked slightly. "I live up to it just fine," he replied.

Julia stared at him for a moment, her brow furrowing ever so slightly. Rather nonplussed, Loki stared back, wondering if he had said something wrong. But Julia just took a sip of her coffee before setting it back down, lightly tracing the edge of the lid with her index finger.

"Who are you?" she asked for a moment. "I mean, really. I've told you all this stuff about me, yet I don't know anything about you. Here I am, having coffee with a total stranger, who seems to be the type of person I wouldn't go near on an otherwise deserted street."

Loki arched an eyebrow. "Well, aren't you cruelly honest?"

Julia shrugged. "Just plain honest. I don't know you and I don't trust you. I don't even know if I believe that your name is actually Loki—how do I know you didn't just use it to get my attention?"

Loki smirked slightly. "You certainly think quite a bit of yourself if you believe that to be the case," he said smoothly. "As you seem not to recall, I told your friend my name before you even spoke to me and announced your . . . passion . . . for Norse mythology. And bravo for not trusting a stranger, but my name _is _Loki. If we're being honest, then I do not care one way or the other if you believe me. Why _I _am sitting here with a complete stranger whom I neither know nor trust is beyond me. And yet here I am, and here you are."

"Here we are," Julia agreed quietly.

They sat in silence for a bit, both apparently contemplating their situation. It was, indeed, a strange one. Julia had gone off on him not long ago, and now here she was having coffee with him. She was telling the truth when she said she didn't trust him, and it certainly didn't bother her that he didn't trust her, either. So what was the point in spending this time with him when he made her so uneasy? Apparently Loki agreed, for after a moment, he rose to his feet.

"I must be off," he said, turning on his most formal airs. "It has been . . . an adventure . . . making your acquaintance."

"So, in other words, have a nice life?" Julia replied with a rueful smile as she, too, stood.

Loki didn't not reply. In truth, he had no idea what she meant. So, to cover his confusion, he took her hand in his and quickly pressed a kiss to the top of it. When he straightened up, she was staring at him. There was a rather quizzical look on her face, as if she couldn't believe what he had done, as if she was trying to read his mind and see what he was thinking. If he was so perceptive of others, then why couldn't he know what she was thinking?

"Wait," she said suddenly when he at last turned to leave. She looked apprehensive. "Maybe . . . maybe you don't have to leave right away."

Loki turned to face her once more, one eyebrow arched. It was truly bothering him that he could not understand her motives, perceive her thoughts, or even understand her, period. She was the biggest mystery to him, and yet she was just a Midgardian! He had thought that she wanted to be rid of him, that she didn't trust him, and now she was asking him to stay.

"Don't I?" he drawled, sounding bored to cover his confusion.

"I want to know more about you," Julia confessed. "All I know is your name, and it's taken forever for me even to believe that it _is _your real name. You know more about me than I know about you, and . . . I think we should fix that."

Loki stared at her, saying nothing.

"In public," she added meekly.

"I have no desire to retreat to any dark corner with you, do not worry," Loki said smoothly. "However, the smell of this establishment is starting to become nauseating."

If Julia was perplexed by his manner of speaking, she didn't show it. Instead, she led the way away from Starbucks and out of the bookshop. Rather than finding another location at which to loiter for a further two hours, the two merely walked down the sidewalk, talking to one another and paying no mind to passers-by. As Loki walked with her, this strange, curious young woman by whom he was so perplexed, whom he was dying to understand, he found himself forgetting. It was as if, when he was with her, he was no longer a superior being, an Asgardian prince who saw her as nothing more than an amusing plaything. No, as they walked side-by-side down the pavement, heading nowhere, they were equals.


End file.
